Long Challenged Poems
Long Challenged Poems. Below are the most popular long Challenged by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Challenged poems by poem length and keyword.
OF AN EBONY HUED MID-SUMMER NIGHT DREAM
(Apropos of We Kings, Queens, and The Fiery Furnace)
Indeed, this is a day the Lord has made:-
Considering last night’s revelation dreaming,
Waking up into this day the Lord has made,
I must enjoy and be glad for being still vertical.
Although “The Great Dream” may have been deferred,
Indeed, it has not been forgotten and deterred.
Oh, they may have murdered its dreamer, but
His and our liberation dream is immortal:-
Looking out over the horizon of our challenged life,
It is realized that we Exodus people have come a long way;
Survivors of the blood-stained shadows of horrific death:-
And we have come this far on the sojourn by faith.
Yes, we have come this far by an inherent faith—continuing
To maintain and sustain us in the present perils of our lives:-
And as African-Americans, surviving in this deemed “promise land”,
We’ve had and continue to have a special kind of relationship with God.
During our living experiences here during and after debilitating slavery,
We’ve seen, heard, felt, and responded to the Word of God in ways that
Are unique to us as an African people of God; for indeed, as chosen ones,
We’ve always been able to sing and praise God in truth and in holy spirits.
Reflecting on the truth of ourstory, it is realized that we are of a people
Whom many would have expected to have stopped singing and praying
A long time ago; yet, from generation to generation, we’ve just kept on
Singing and praising and trusting in the love of God and His redemption.
Indeed, sacred revelations continue to bring us from extermination
To exaltation, from degradation of dignity, from nobody to somebody;
With wide wondering eyes on the prize, we continue to sojourn onward
For our eyes have seen His glory as we have continued marching in His truth.
Indeed, we not only believe but know that in the savior’s favor
Life is and while our perils may endure here a little while longer,
We know that a liberating joyful stay here on earth is on the horizon
Promised by that very present help to those who live in good trouble;
Thus, let us not be exhausted nor deterred by the ghost tyranny
But with undying faith and spiritual strength, let us victoriously
Demonstrate that we are not of the children of Sisyphus’ fate;
But living reflections of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego:-
GROWING UP THE PAST RUNS DEEP
Growing up in the village..
days before electricity arrived
when i used a kerosin lamp..
as i browsed through volumes..
volumes of literature..
Till my eyes would turn dry..
and i would feel dizzy...
for not changing my reading poster
screaming nerves accussing mi..
i stood accussed of abuse
by my own senses..
Sweet sleep would fall over me..
the novel dropping..
from mines limb hands
dreaming of strange lands..
Oh the joy of addiction..
i was hooked to good stories
Evading peers to catch up
on a book.. didnt i love escapism
negleting schoo work... now thts dumb..
negleting sports and exercises wasnt i hooked
the past is deep i spent a lot of time..
reading make believe stories
Moving to the east coast town..
after finishing forth...
i fell in love with movies
and became an enemy of the books
a great movie i watched..
robbed of my immagination
Rushing over meals
running to catch a new movie
my brother michael...
sneezing allrgies of the polluted cities..
i was missing village life..
Strange swahili culture..
christian, muslims, arabs africans
strange foreigners,, i have this-
against them most of them didnt seem
to love clothes.. yet the others
covered to their eyes..
Mwadhini calling the faithful to prayer
christians holding week long crusades..
here the battle was for souls
or was it the offerings
strange swahili culture..
drinking strange palm wine..
such was the life at the coast
New friends trying to revert me to islam..
elders remmindim me not to forfeit..
the wisdom of our people..
borrowed clothes dont fit well..
and customs and traditions..
are the mirror of society..
No where were my beliefs challenged more..
they called me almukafirun...
i retaliated youre a zailim..
didnt we love the enlightening debate
softening of stands..
proponent and opponent reached common ground...
The bond of friendship and culture
breakin down- them
cultural religios barriers
friends and gal friends from all religions
people at the coast are very freindly
and salaams greetings a way of life..
Stories of jinn and black majic
we knew not to give much-
credence.. there of the disbelivers
we believed in the onness of the supreme..
debated on tenacles of faith..
for the bond of love runs deep
and the past is deep..
by lewis k nyaga
Suicidal Ideation March 30th, 2022 linkedin...
to mein kampf insync with mine body dysmorphia
After reading articles
published within April 4/11 2022
of The Nation
I challenged the efficacy
taking prescription medication
categorized as SSRIs
and/or SNRIs.
Unpleasant side effects
such as earth shaking dreams
and/or especially hefty weight gain
linkedin with former
comprising my daily cocktail
of approved prescription medication
courtesy nurse practitioner.
Deliberation about courting death rooted
throughout mine psyche
fueling sinister chortle
at least since bout with anorexia nervosa,
but... maybe ginned blood,
sans umbilical cord transfused in utero aortal,
though long since recovered, the intractable,
haunting specter, sans grim reaper
intertwining within every fiber of this mortal
rooted, grounded deep, and branched out
into each nook and cranny portal.
Said notion provoked,
when made painfully aware
youngest daughter (aged twenty three)
plagued with similar thoughts,
damn genetics did maliciously engineer
clutching telephone while
seated at edge of chair
did apologetically, despairingly,
grievously... did air
pestilential, penitential, plenipotential... scare
re: distraction and understandable fear,
she might unwittingly plunge
into hopeless abysmal despair
falling prey into irrevocable
deathly hallows lair,
though kudos for her
from me, this sole Harris heir
to communicate, (albeit
hesitantly) into mine ear
suddenly wishing thy
Shayna Punim to be near,
but residing (about three hour drive
southeast of Portland, Oregon)
with my kid sister, attentive to welfare,
a sibling whose persona
doth show tender loving care
and concern, this papa
felt reassured there
would be every action taken
with sixth sense to beware
lest progeny exhibits
pointedly obvious lurching career
dramatic slide in tandem
with Old Rotten Gotham
into behavioral sink
emergency measures sibling
immediately would commandeer,
hence somewhat relieved thee dear
beloved progeny receptive to hear,
this dada expressed his unconditional love,
and grateful psychological intervention
offspring boldly did declare
indicative professional help volunteer
really asserted necessary to stave off
how dice throw of fate unfair
to said lass, whose demise,
would abruptly kill this sonneteer!
The shifting of many corporeal hands move across this dead cell,
A vacuums vortex, a psychic sponge, charging this battery of
Energy called the spirit board.
Paranormal phenomenon striking plate to enter realities plane
Of existence, for the ethereal challenged in crisis, seeking the
Threshold for spontaneous release, unto our spiritual realm.
Witchery’s board of trickery left in a polarized stance it
So entices the living with its tempting whispering of lies,
Incantations gate keepers wait on the other side of evils
Door way.
Memorizing the human sensory functions into a false
Sense of harmless mystery of the unexplained, it lures
These victims ever closer to weaving its spell of the demonic.
These capture being lost unto the hypnotic effects are
Transfixed unable to hit their override switch that controls
Their mental powers of persuasion, disabled is there strength
Of will power, they belong to the Ouija now.
Clasping do all for sides of the curtain of reality, times
Displacement begins in earnest, without hesitations
Momentary loll this dead cell bursts to life.
Black magic key has been inserted within the wooden
Door way’s heart and soul, a bizarre power bank draws
Forth the energy of the spiritual lost, swinging hells
Kept wide open.
The pancetta spins out of control, smashing against
The barriers of humanity, darkened ebony light shines
Through this doorway of evil and the flickering candle
Turns to a shades greenish blue wavering in the odious
Breeze.
The voice of a thousand screams echo in sheer delight,
We have been freed at last, broken is the trance, the boards
Hypnotic effects are dashed by the light of the dawn.
Dazed in bewilderment the voyeurs are chilled to their
Very inward bones, shaking, staring in awes amazement,
Wondering if these events really happened at all.
Then within these tented walls a voice responds to their
Questioning, laughing, as if a jackal at a fresh kill site!
Foolish mortals you know not what you have done, this
Night, but I promise thee this, laughing once again,
In a demonic under tone, none shall leave this domicile
Alive.
The entry doors lock without the human touch, the
Curtain windows pull closed, a momentary stilled
Scream, then all is silent, what remains is left up
To my readers to visualize, as the final candle
Blows out!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Do not be self-conscious or anything, but I have got my big ,rotatorof an eye on you.
I know your mama and yourdad, and I’m willing to let them know if you are not being true.
I cannot tell you that it is never odd or even, but I can tell you that it’s midway, and blue.
Eve, Bob, Otto and Anna are ready to jump right in that kayak and stack cats if they have to.
Don’t pop your eyes at me, young lady. I do not care if we are at the civic center; I feel free
To do whatever I have to, to keep Evil Olive in check, and you also, my little bumble bee.
Who is looking for a nut for a jar of tuna? There is no lemon, no melon, and it’s 9:03.
The radar gun is in the van with Hannah, anyway it was at noon, so I thought that it still might be.
Someone is outside the civic center is yelling, “No garden, one dragon!” What does that mean anyway?
I brought this 6th grade level field trip with me to have an interesting, fun-filled, learning challenged day.
I don’t need some nut-bucket ruining it for me, on every level, this is totally wrong, and I don’t play!
The mirror rimis brushing against the tailgate of the bus we brought, but that is for the driver to say.
Now where in the Sam hill crazy town, is that blue nylon solokayak that was attached to the top of our bus?
I thought we could have one blasted solo-inspired field trip to the civic center without a bunch of fuss.
I realize it is noon, and people are hungry and crabby, and the blue kayak is a big fat muss.
But you have to realize that Eve, Bob, Otto, and Anna were the ones assigned to straighten this big tuss.
I always get the blame when things go wrong, as everyone blames the poor old mama.
The dad is just as much to blame, but there he goes, taking off on a fat llama.
I’m ready to pop my cork, and pitch a fit that would shock the Dad, so much.
Aha! Here he is, back to chow down his fabulous, hand-stacked pepperoni lunch.
True talk heals,
When someone speaks,
The truth about my small mistakes
As human being ,
I feel much comfortable.
When someone speaks lies
About what I did not say or do,
I feel so downhearted.
Speaking the truth is my best drink
And I am addicted to it.
I have been hated ,
Attacked,
Ill-treated,
Excluded,
Challenged,
Tortured,
Terrorised,
Persecuted,
For speaking the truth on social media
And face to face dialogues.
Meeting of man with
Man generates nix,
Meeting of woman with
Woman gives nothing,
Meeting of man with
Woman produces Children.
How do you expect to get a future king or queen of England when men with men or women with women
marry each other?
Imagine when a top leader forces some people to do what he"she" can not do.
The scripture says ,
" Multiply on Earth"
reason why
Presidents,
Kings,
Queens,
Princes,
Princesses
Don't marry
gays
Joe Biden,
King Charles III,
Emmanuel Macron,
Vladimir Putin,
Jacob Zuma,
Cyril Ramaphosa,
Yuheri Museveni,
Barack Obama,
Xi Jinping,
Mndala Chimbalanga II,
Kim Jong-un
Are happy to be fathers
Because they have wives.
Some African countries were imposed
Some laws which seemed useless to them
And continued to obey what God said
in the scripture,
" Multiply on Earth"
I don't think same - sex marriage
To be part of the British
Culture and traditions
Because there is no King
or Queen
or Prince
or Princess
Of that royal traditional house
Who did such Marriage in their history.
Hope this truth
Will heal many
People on earth.
I love you all.
March 26/2023
By Alfonso Warally Ngengethe
Mussabwa Chris
The Search to Find the Edge of the Ice
They say moss doesn't gather on a stone rolling, in motion,
And even wise algae gets left in the wake,
Of a proud ship, foresail dipped, rising upon an ocean,
Yet what of the movement of cold, blued, polar ice,
Where humanity has no known device,
That can truly assess each crevasse like a human eye,
Not wafting past, digitising from way up high,
But the eye picking out subtle changes,
The sense of touch, of feeling crumbling, matters much,
And no satellite can be quite right as the human nose,
Smelling fauna, or the stench of rotting, dead plants or fish,
For ice recedes its movement gathers stones,
But it reveals things, that satellites alone,
Can never bring to assess, without assumption in that process,
And so a legend of arctic exploration abandons long treks,
Or climbing mountains, and not due to getting older,
Indeed using boats for a landlubber is getting bolder,
Taking stock of the after shock,
The Northwest passage laid out, like a virgin on a wedding night,
Internally sobbing for the state our world is in,
For there was no ice, not even enough for a consoling gin,
The long march of humanity's future discontent,
Requires assessment, a global response to a new war cry,
Come Europe, Come China, Come India, Come America,
Come hear the cry of the Canadian northwest,
Of the fears of Greenland becoming a new forest,
Come Australasia, Russia too, come all countries, much to do,
For we must rise to assess the circumstance of the ice regress,
To prevent surprise, loss of our world's bequest,
And pushing forward the advance guard of this new challenge,
Is Sir David's team, the polar ocean phalanx,
Not sat around at home in comfy armchairs,
But doing something, going somewhere, to show we care,
Seeking to find and monitor and report back,
Crucial knowledge that currently we lack,
For how can we plan to avoid our worlds future sorrows,
If we do not make an effort to find out for our tomorrow,
Where exactly is the edge of the ice, which today no device,
Can show in a way that all of human kind can know,
Does the ice recede or simply ebb and flow,
Stand up, man up, pay up, support them,
Lets see them depart and sail,
To find this century’s holy grail,
The search to find ‘The Edge of the Ice’.
@Andrew Carnegie, Challenged in Wiltshire, Jan 12th 2017.
"The E.R.I.C."
by: Eric L. Boddie
To each of you who feels you have failed to evolve
Because you are constantly running into various barriers
Sit back, relax, and let me tell you the story
Of the eight realistically inspiring characters
The first was a son to God and his mother
As Seen Through The Eyes Of The Word and not any other
Because he Learned That Love Is Stronger than what words can even utter
Because Love Is So Much Of An Action, there is no distance it can not cover
The second was a brother to his siblings and all humanity
Blessed With Many Gifts, but never known for vanity
Because he felt any fear outside of God only led to insanity
So every situation that arose, he handled so candidly
The third was a man, standing both, strong and proud
Humble to all men but Only To God had he bowed
Always soft spoken but forever searching for that loud
Forever content with self-reliance, no dependence on the crowd
The fourth was a friend, extended with helping hand
Forever faithful and true, never using that betraying brand
Knowing that friendships must be grown, they can't be bought in the can
Because instead of desiring to down-grade, he wanted to understand
The fifth was the freak, known to all and one
The inspiration of desire, the innovator of monogamous fun
One Eve at a time, that's how he got it done
Because the motto was for her to only leak at the grasp of his gun
The sixth was a nerd, but cool in all other ways
Serving as a lifetime member in how her hip sways
But something about knowledge always left him amazed
And for that reason, attention is what he always pays
The seventh was a soldier, always Fighting For Christ
Which did he Love more, God or his Life
Because the things that he did show that he paid his price
In Respect For The One Who Made The Greatest Sacrifice
And the eighth was the one who would let neither give up his fight
Telling each he is not wrong until they PROVE they're right
Because To Live Under The Star That Brings Bright Morning Light
Can only bring Hope, and there is no better sight
Each was greatly strong, each was greatly misunderstood
Rarely could either be challenged, but far too often, each was abused
In ways too great for a simply common mind to ponder
Causing the E.R.I.C. more Prayers, A Power that can never be overused
Eldest daughter – I Praise
Twenty two years ago
December twenty second,
two thousand eighteen
"star student" born
this papa (and most
likely thee birth mother)
initially felt ecstatic,
dramatic (yes frenetic),
and careworn
as freshly minted parents,
but gifted with a daughter,
whose existence far
more precious
than any Earthborn
rare widgets, gewgaws,
gems, et cetera, despite
evoking unsolicited,
unpleasant, and
unmanageable forlorn
communication "dirt poor"
living (at least ten years
of wretchedness at 1148
Greentree Lane) unable
to toot your horn,
cuz unbearable, undesirable,
unforgettable, et cetera,
and manifold challenged ,
when beloved Shana
Punim evinced inborn
developmental delay,
(which severe electric
koolaid acid test
patience of this father),
much more difficult
than playing krummhorn,
now after tendering the trials
and tribulations, an
amalgamation of
poignant affects,
whereat your
permanent presence...
(must never NOT precede mine),
cuz..., I would definitely mourn,
your absence, thus felt the timely
opportunity to dash off
a birthday poem to you
in tandem with sharing,
(while comfortably numb
and figuratively licking war
torn psychological wombs) - torn
and ripped, queued,
peppered natty psyche
pockmarked with scorn
from self, (and those lives,
this dada immediately
impacted) particularly
your person roar'n
with cumulative anger toward
this insightful fellow,
(who claims to know
what thee feel toward me),
especially when ****
hours of valuable
time, now caught
(say, eh...approximately, fraught
upon the half life of rare Earth
element Eden), not
just strictly naught
heard thru the grapevine,
but forcing Math (hew)
analysis, via meditation, poetry
writing therapy, et cetera.
Hence...I apologize,
asper unasked for pain wrought
thee, sans being unemployed,
demeaning "mother Abby,"
bumbling, horrid house
keeper (Hagrid himself,
would turn down invitation),
plus Facebook fiasco,
imbroglio, and locomotive -
complicit in behavior
comparable to pedophile,
yet please let me conclude
by admitting total lack
of wherewithal.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR DAUGHTER!
Not long ago my son and I had a brief conversation about cars. Perhaps the car talk was just a part of our complete conversation about the weather, the news, politics, and sports. I don't recall, but it could have been a serious conversation about car purchasing. Things were going well until it came to the point where he asked me how many cars I have owned.
For the first time, I was invited or would challenged be a better word, to think about and count the cars and trucks that I have owned over the past 45 years. I found the total rather interesting and also a bit surprising. I may have even forgotten a car or two, but my best count came to 19.
I must tell you that those 19 vehicles represented 7 major car makers and comprised a total of 8 different colors, and not one of them was red. I doubt that I would ever purchase a red car.
I must say that my wife looks lovely in red, and I have often told her so. I like red apples; I grow red roses; and for obvious reasons, I simply refuse to purposely run red lights. Red is a most beautiful color, and I wear red during the Christmas holidays. However, except for tee shirts, it is not a color that I have learned to wear. Maybe someday I will be more into red, but I'll have to think about it.
05282017 PS Contest, Red, Mystic Rose